How Gnasty Gnorc stole Christmas
by Super Metal Sonic
Summary: A Christmas story starring everyone's favortie Gnorc


**How Gnasty Gnorc Stole Christmas**

Every dragon in the Dragonlands liked Christmas a lot…

But Gnasty Gnorc, living in Gnasty's world, did NOT!

Gnasty hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don't ask why, no one quite knows the reason. It could be his boot where to tight or maybe his head wasn't screwed on right. But I think the most likely reason of all may have been that his heart was two sizes too small.

For tomorrow, Gnasty knew, all the dragons would wake bright an early. They'd rush to their trees in a hurry. They'd see all the little presents and toys. And then the noise. Oh, the Noise! That's one thing he hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the dragons, from Spyro to Ember, would sit down to feast. And they'd feast! And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! They would feast on fodder-pudding and rare fodder-beast. Which was something Gnasty couldn't stand in the least.

And then they'd do something he liked the least of all. Every dragon in the realms, from the tall to the small, would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing. They'd stand hand-in-hand and the dragons would start singing.

They'd sing! And They'd sing! And They'd SING! SING! SING! SING! And the more Gnasty thought of this dragon Christmas-Sing, the more Gnasty thought, "I must stop the whole thing!"

"Why, for twenty years I've put up with it now! I must stop Christmas from coming… But how?"

Then he got an idea. An awful idea. Gnasty got a wonderful, awful idea!

"I know just what to do!" Gnasty laughed in his throat. And he made a quick Santy Claus hat and coat. And he chuckled and clucked, "What a great Gnorc trick! With this coat and this hat, I look just like Saint Nick!"

"All I need is some reindeer…" Gnasty looked around. But, since reindeer are scarce, there were none to be found. Did that stop old Gnasty? No! The Gnorc simply said, "If I can't find any reindeer, I'll make some instead!"

So he called a gnorc to come forth.

Then he took some thread and tied a horn on top of the gnorc's head. Hitched a sleigh to this backs, then loaded it up with some bags and old empty sacks.

Then Gnasty said, "Giddap!" And the sleigh stared on - toward the houses where the Dragons lay in sleep 'til dawn.

The house was dark and quiet snow filled the night air. The dragons were dreaming dragon dreams with no care. "This is stop number one," Gnasty hissed, whipping at the gnorc with a flick of his wrist.

Then he slid down the chimney; a rather tight fit for the Gnorc. But, if Santa could do it, so could Gnasty. He got stuck only once, grumbling and mumbling doom. Then he stuck his head out in the rumpus room where little dragon stocking all hung in a row. "These stockings," he grinned, "are the first things to go!"

Then he slithered and slunk, with a smile most unpleasant, around the whole room, and he took every present!

Then he slunk to the lounge. He took the dragon's feast. He took the fodder-pudding! He took fodder-beast. He cleaned out that lounge as quick as a flash. Why, Gnasty took the last of their fodder-hash!

Then he stuffed it all up the chimney with glee. "And now!" Grinned Gnasty, "I will stuff up the tree!"

And Gnasty grabbed the tree, and started to shove when he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove.

He turned around fast, and he saw a pink dragon, Ember, who was younger than he thought.

Gnasty had been caught by this small dragon, who'd come looking for a cup of water when got out of her cot. She stared at Gnasty and said, "Santy Clause, why… why are you taking our Christmas tree?"

But, you know, that Gnasty was so smart and slick. He thought up a lie, and he thought it up quick. "Why, my sweet little girl," the fake Santa lied, "There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side. So I'm taking it home to my workshop, my dear. I'll fix it up there and I'll bring it back here."

And his fib fooled the dragon. Then he patted Ember's head and got her a drink and he sent her to bed. Then when Ember when to bed with her cup, Gnasty went to the volcano and stuffed the tree up!

Then he went up the chimney, himself, the old liar. On their walls he left nothing but hooks and some wire.

And the one bit of food he left in the house, was a crumb even too small for a mouse.

It was a quarter past dawn… all the dragons still a-bed, all the them still a-snooze when he packed up his sled, packed it up with their presents! The ribbons! The wrappings! The tags! And the tinsel! The trimmings! The trappings!

Three thousand feet he rode with his load, over the Dragon worlds he rode. "Pooh-Pooh to the dragons!" he was Gnorc-ly humming. "They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming! They're waking up. I know just what they'll do. Their mouths will hang open a minute or two, then each dragon down in the realms will all cry, a great lot."

"That's a noise," grinned Gnasty, "that I simply must hear!" So he paused. And Gnasty put a hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started low. Then it started to grow…

But the sound wasn't sad! Why, this sound sounded glad.

Gnasty wiped his eyes and stared down in surprise, while the Gnorc let out a sigh.

Every dragon in the realms was singing. Despite the lack of presents they didn't seem to suffer.

He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming. It came. Somehow or other, it came just the same.

And Gnasty, stood puzzling and puzzling: "How could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags." And he puzzled three hours, 'til his puzzler could puzzle no more. Then Gnasty thought something he hadn't before. "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas… perhaps… means a little bit more."

And what happened then? Well… in the Dragon worlds they say that Gnasty's small heart grew three sizes that day.

And the minute his heart didn't feel quite so slight, he whizzed with his load through the bright morning light, and brought back the toys and the food for the feast. And he… Gnasty himself… carved the fodder-beast.

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